Tiffany's Life
by BlessedSplendor
Summary: Tiffany is an overweight, depressed teenager with suicidal thoughts and pills in her pocket. She was going to end it all when a strange man appeared and knew her name. About a month later, Tiffany finds a blue telephone box and accidentily hijacks it. Then she officially meets the lively Doctor and he shows her things she never dreamed existed. Tiffany begins reflecting on her life
1. Tiffany

My name is Tiffany and I'm 15 years old.

The name doesn't suit me. A Tiffany is a princess-like, happy-go-lucky girl, probably blonde and model thin. I am fat with tangled hair the color of a dead dandelion.

I have tried everything to lose some weight or tame the rat's nest on my head, but no good results. I got depressed and as one thing led to another, I thought about killing myself.

Soon those thoughts got me to the girl's bathroom at school, holding pills to my mouth. Those pills were an overdose of sleeping medicine; it would have put me to sleep, forever. My hands were shaking so badly that the small white pills nearly dropped to the dirty floor of the bathroom.

I closed my tear-reddened eyes and took deep, shaky breaths. _I_ will _do this._ I told myself.

 _When I do_ _this, everything will be over and I will rest at last. No more dreading to get up in the morning to the stares and the not-so-stifled giggles made to my face. No more lessons led by teachers who acknowledge me by looking at my bulging body with disgust. No more coming home to a tired mother who only sleeps when she isn't at work with not two, but three jobs. No more Dad, who I will probably never meet again after he packed and left me and my mother in the middle of the night when I was in second grade. He went to live with the girlfriend he had an affair with since seven months after he married Mom._

Two fat tears poured down my tilted face and went into my ears.

 _And no more thinking of Neal, my older brother, who died in a horrific car accident a year and a half ago. He was only sixteen._

They found what remained of his body. I saw it myself. His once tall, lanky body was mauled beyond recognition.

I finally opened my mouth.

Then I heard a noise. It was a wheezing, groaning sound. I quickly hid the pills behind my back looked at the door.

I heard the squeaky sound of opening a door, and the next thing I knew, the bathroom door opened.

I quickly hid the pills behind my back. I saw was a young man with a head of shiny brown hair, puppy-dog eyes, large hands, and a blue bow tie.

"Tiffany!" He yelled in surprise. What? He knows me? How?

"Who are you?" I ask. "And this is a girl's bathroom! For all you know I could have been, I don't know, um . . ." I blushed.

"So sorry, wrong time. It's not April yet, is it? We had lots of fun then, yes." He turned around and closed the door. I didn't move.

I heard that same wheezing, groaning sound, and I ran to open the door. I saw a fading image of what looked like a blue telephone box, and wind all around it. Then it faded completely and it was as if it wasn't there to begin with.

That was weird. Who is this man? How does he know my name? And what does he mean by 'it's not April yet'? Of course it isn't! It's almost March now. I feel like I should know something.

I put the pills into my pocket. I had to know what was going to happen in April. If May comes and nothing happens, I'll kill myself.


	2. Hijack

It's the twenty-first of April, and May is coming soon. I've already made my decision to . . . you know, as soon as May officially comes around.

I made up my mind two months ago, will I chicken out again? And is that a good thing or a bad thing? There are so many questions and so little answers, and nobody to blame but myself.

I drop my pencil. When I bend down to pick it up, I hear a familiar sound I've been straining my ears for some time now. It was music to my ears.

I don't pick up my pencil. I sit back up and raise my hand. "Mr. Robinson? May I be excused to the _ladies'_ room?" I say. Emphasis on the word 'ladies'' increases my chances to leave a male teacher's class. I felt bad for using it on my favorite mathematics teacher so far. I'm good at math.

Mr. Robinson looks up, his rimless glasses slipping. "Of course you can, Miss Land. But make sure that you hurry back, I want to talk with you after class."

I nod quickly and am out of the door in a blink of an eye.

What do I do now, though? I never think anything through! I might as well go to the bathroom. I'll find a way to the telephone box at recess.

I walk slowly to the bathroom. I hated the place ever since my failed attempt to . . . when I chickened out. Was it really the best place to do it, at the school?

 _Yes,_ whispers a small voice in the back of my head. _School, as awful as it is, is your safe haven. Your house is nothing more than empty rooms and creaking floors._

Without realizing it, I started to sob. It was true, school was my safe haven. I never skipped it once in my entire career. Sure, most of the teachers resent me and the whole school body hates my guts, but I love the school. I really do love it, with its many halls and classrooms, its wonderful smell of plaster, glue, and old books. The school has so many places to hide, so many things to learn. I may not be that good at science or history, but I love math and literature and . . .

I reach the bathroom door. I open it and close it behind me. I stand still for about two minutes, and I'm not sure if I was even breathing.

I wipe my eyes and go to open a stall.

"Ah!" I yell and slam the door. There was something in there, filling it up. I open it again and see a blue telephone box. I touch it. On a sign it says 'pull to open'. I pull and it opens without as much as a squeak. I walk in and gasp. The inside is massive, and colorful, and simply amazing!

I walk up to the middle of the room, to what looks like an engine. Is it an engine? It's the strangest thing I have ever seen! It has everything on it from bells to typewriters to a pinball game.

I step up to the engine and notice that the thingamajig in the middle is going up and down, getting brighter and dimmer in rhythm. It's almost like it is . . . breathing. It's alive!

I stroke the console and it vibrates slightly, as if it's purring or something. I smile.

I stroke it as I walk around it. I notice a few switches and levers. Absentmindedly, I switch and pull them. When I reach the typewriter, I press the space bar a few times and type out my mom's name, Vanessa.

Then I reach a giant lever. I clutch it, but I didn't pull it, I swear, it just pushed itself!

The place lurches and I fall over backward. I hit my head hard on the floor and my eyesight goes blurry. I blink a few times, trying to steady the swirling image above me, but to no avail. The world turns red, and then black. Soon, it turns into nothing at all.

I wake up to a ringing phone and a banging headache. I get up and reach for the phone.

"Hello?" I say tiredly.

"Who are you and where did you take TARDIS?!" A vaguely familiar voice says. My eyes widen. Of course! It's that weird bow tie man I saw before, and I was looking for him, I am in his . . .

I gasp. I AM IN HIS LIVING MACHINE AND IT IS MOVING! _IT IS MOVING!_ I lay down the phone and rush to open the door. I trip outside and realize that I am _falling into open space!_

I let out a screech and grab on to the ledge of the – what did he call it? – Oh, yeah, the TARDIS. I am proud to say that I did not scream. I realized that there was no point, seeing as there was no one to hear it. I _was_ terrified out of my mind, though.

I don't know how in the name of logic I got back up. All I remember is that the machine stopped and I strained to lift myself up and back into the TARDIS and close the door as quickly as I could.

I picked up the phone. "Who are you?" I said in the most innocent voice possible. "I think you've called the wrong number, bye!"

CLANG! I slammed the phone down.

What was I thinking?! I obviously hijacked this man's spaceship-thing and WHATTHEHELLISGOINGON I'MINSPACE WHATAMIDOINGINSPACE!?

I take a shuddering breath, close my eyes, and count to ten. One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Oh, and Eleven for good measure. You never know when you need eleven.

The phone rings again, crashing into my train of thought like my seventh grade science teacher. I pick it up.

"Hello?" I say a bit more shyly than I intended.

"Do not hang up, do you understand? I am very angry right now!" He said as if I was like, I don't know, three or something.

"You don't sound very angry." I said quietly. And he didn't, but that just made me nervous.

"I assure you that I am, so you'd better answer all of my questions, is that understood? That is not a rhetorical question, so answer me!"

"Yes." I say. He has the right to be mad; otherwise I wouldn't let him talk to me like that. Jerk.

"First off, what are you?" He says.

"Huh?" I ask. What is _that_ supposed to mean?

"What species?" He says impatiently.

"Human?" What a weirdo!

"What is your _name_ , your full _name_?" He says the word like it's the most important thing in the world. I guess it is.

"Um, Tiffany." I say. "Tiffany Orchid Land." My mother is sentimental. I'm glad that she didn't make Orchid my first name. My real full name is actually Tiffany Orchid Vanessa Land, but my family's always been leaving out that name since I was born, so I do, too.

"What a brilliant name!" He exclaims. "Tiffany, how old are you? You sound pretty young for a human smart enough to hijack my ship."

I relax. This man seems nice.

"I'm fifteen." I say. "And don't scoff; it took me fifteen years to do that!"

He laughs. I laugh, too.

"Tiffany, why did you steal my TARDIS? I mean, I stole it too, years ago, but what are your reasons? And how did you learn how to fly it? Only two people in the entire universe know how."

"I don't know." I state. What else can I say?

"What do you mean? You can't just burst in and _accidently_ fly the TARDIS away!"

"I don't . . . I did . . . I mean, it was an accident!" Tears were already gushing down my face. "I just came in and pressed some buttons! I didn't know what I was doing, I – I - " I started to sob.

"Shhhhhhhh, it's all right. Um . . . there-there?" I kept on sobbing. I couldn't stop, and my breath was going in and out against my will, the inhale so deep that it hurt my chest. I held my throat in attempt to stop it. This has happened before. I think it's called a panic attack. I drop the phone.

I try to control my breathing, but in vain. I let go of my throat and close my eyes. I count to ten. One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; And eleven for good measure.

The painful inhaling stops and I rise, shaking, to my feet. I pick up the phone.

"I'm sorry." I say, blushing.

"No need." He says. "It happens to the best of us."

I smile. "Thank you." I say. "I'm really sorry about hijacking your ship. How can I get it back to earth?"

I hear a smile in his voice. "I'm glad you've asked. Go to the cabinet in the room to your left . . . No! I have that stupid DVD with me! I'll just have to walk you through it. Up for a bumpy ride?"

I grin. "You bet!"


	3. Trust

"Ok, and-pull the lever, the big one." He said.

I pulled it and the place lurched, making that beautiful wheezing, groaning sound again. I held on as tightly as I could until it stopped.

I went to the door. That was really fun! Maybe next time I'll hold on more tightly. I reached for the door handle.

BANG! The door opened and hit me in the face. I stumbled and put my face to my nose, which started to bleed.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Watch it!"

"I'm so sorry, Tiffany." He said genuinely. He gently put his arm around me. "Here, let me help you." I let him sit me down on a chair and he handed me a handkerchief. "Use this."

I took the handkerchief and nodded my gratitude. I held it to my nose.

"Well, that's a bad way to introduce yourself to someone." I said in a muffled voice. "What's your name, anyway? I told you mine."

The bow tie man laughed. "Well, you introduced yourself by hijacking my ship." He chuckled.

I gave him a hurt look. "It was an accident." I said. "And what is your name?"

"I'm the Doctor." He said. "I'm a Time Lord from Gallifrey. The planet's gone now, though, and I've spent more of my life in the TARDIS than in my home planet. Oh, and TARDIS stands for 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space'."

I took that all in. "So the TARDIS travels in time and space; anywhere and . . . any-when? I guess?" I smile to myself. "Anywhen! That should be a thing." Well, that explains why he didn't know me.

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, it's a full-fledged time machine. And I guess, Tiffany Orchid Land, that you earned yourself a trip in the TARDIS! Where and when to?"

I looked up. "What?" I exclaimed, surprised. "I trespassed your ship, played around with the engine, accidentally flew it somewhere, hung up on you, freaked out on you, and now you're going to take me somewhere?!"

"Yes."

I stared at him. "You're an alien." I said. It was not a question, just a statement.

"I am." He agreed.

"So I am an alien to you." I said.

"That is true." The Doctor replied.

"You still trust me? I'm an alien to you and a stranger, and you still trust me?" I spluttered.

"Yes."

"I'm fifteen! I'm a teenager! I have parents and no driver's license! And you're about to take me on a trek through time and space, why?"

"Because I think you'd like it." He said. "You have already proven yourself as a worthy companion."

"I had a panic attack!" I yelled.

"Not when you were driving." The Doctor pointed out.

"But-" I stammered. "But I-"

"Do you want to come or not?" He said, but not impatiently, for some reason. "That's the only reason I wouldn't take you on a trip. Do you understand? You deserve more than your boring, day-to-day life. You want something exciting, dangerous, and fun? I'm right at you doorstep! Tiffany, will you come with me? I can show you things you've never even dreamed of. I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can tell you how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even stopper . . . wait a second, that's Harry Potter. Professor Snape said that. I love Snape's speech, don't you?"

I nod.

"What's in it for you?" I blurt out. It had to be said.

"Well, I've been alone for some time now, and you seem like a fun person to be around. Will you come?" He looked into my eyes. They were hazel. "Please?"

I looked at him curiously. I was always a good girl and never spoke to strangers. There was a reason for the rules, so I followed them. Will this man hurt me? He didn't look like he would. He will have to earn my trust, prove himself.

But I said, "Okay."

What was I thinking? It was reckless and dangerous, but what did I have to lose? I was planning on committing goddamn _suicide_ if I didn't meet him. And for the record, I kind of trusted the guy.

"Where do you want to go? To the past? To the future? Earth? A different planet? A space ship? The sky's not even the limit here!"

I tried to think. All of my favorite time periods buzzed through my head. "The past, I want to go to the past." I said. "I don't care when or where on earth. Surprise me."

The Doctor grinned and started running around, pulling levers, switching switches, and just playing around with the many unrelated toy-like things on the consol. I watched him. He was like a child playing with his brand new toy. The gleam of delight in his eyes was unmissable. He reminded me of one little boy I babysat named Andrew.

Andrew was a really poor boy. Not poor as in his family had little money; his family was actually pretty wealthy. What I mean is, his parents never got him any toys or let him have any candy. When his parents were home, he literally just sat down on a stool (they didn't believe in giving him more comfort than he needed) and stare at the wall.

The first time I babysat he was about five years old. He was sitting on his stool and staring at the wall. I went up to him.

"Hi, Andrew," I said nervously. I was twelve and I never babysat before. The pay here was good and I didn't want to screw it up. "I'm Tiffany."

Andrew turned around and looked at me. "Hello, Miss." He said automatically. "My name is Andrew Miller, and I am very pleased to meet you."

I gaped at him. "It's just Tiffany." I said. "Do you want to play a game? I brought some magic markers and colorful paper just for you!"

Andrew frowned. " _Magic_ markers?" He said with wonder. "Do they make the pictures come to life? Marcus has markers like that. He drew himself a dog and a cat and a goldfish with legs."

 _Imaginary friends._ I thought. "Oh, these are not like Marcus's markers. They're so much better! Come here and I'll show you."

I showed Andrew how the markers could change colors with the help of the special white marker. His eyes shone and he sat down, coloring, for about twenty minutes straight. He came out with a very impressive drawing of a very pretty girl with brown hair and what looked like a wand.

"That's you, with your special magic marker that makes all the kids in Andrewland happy forever." He said shyly.

I smiled. "Do you have any friends, Andrew? Friends that your parents can see?" I asked him.

Andrew shook his head. "Mummy and Daddy say that other children are un-hi-gen-ic. It means that they smell."

I was shocked. "What about nursery school? And school?" I cried.

"Mummy will teach me at home." He said.

Poor kid! See what I mean? I babysat him for a while afterwards, and brought him a toy or a game each time.

He was a really happy little boy with me, until his parents came home early and caught me playing Guess Who with him. They freaked out on me, saying that I've ruined their only chance at making the perfect boy.

"He'll get rebellious! Next thing you know, he'll be taking drugs, drinking alcohol, and raping girls here and there! He'll end up in jail all because of you!" His father screamed.

"He'll never become a famous professor in Harvard! Or a famous doctor, or scientist! What have you done?!"

I ran from there as fast as I could, the coward I was back then, but I know that one day I'll have the guts to go back and talk some sense into them. Maybe even call the police about it.

"We're here!" The Doctor cried.

I jump up and run to the door. "Where are we?" I ask.

The Doctor grins. "Close your eyes." He says. I roll them instead and open the door.


End file.
